An Unyielding Spirit
by Cat4556
Summary: Can a heart's wounds ever heal after past tragedies? (Rated R for mild sexual content NON-CON) If you don't like that sort of thing, don't read it.


Hey, I was just in the mood to write something today, and this is what popped into my head. Please review! Disclaimer: Don't own the stuff from the movie, everything else is mine.  
  
I hate him. I swear to God, I hate him! If ever I get the chance to slice his throat, then I shall live happily to the end of my days!  
I lay in the cold, un-inviting bed staring lifelessly at the ceiling. A cold mixture of depression and anger courses through me as I impatiently grip the sheets with my right hand. I'll be damned if I am to stay here until he tires of me, and then be merely hung like some common criminal in the streets for his own amusement. Sitting up quickly, I walk to the window and stare morosely down on what I used to call my home. Now, it is nothing but a dark, empty place that has been ransacked by pirates. They carelessly raped my home of it's warmth and hospitality, only to transform it into a desolate and cold ghost town. I fight back tears determinedly as I think about my family. Where are they? Have they managed to escape? If so, how? Gripping the window sill in frustration, I can't help but think that if I had only escaped just a few moments faster, I would not be here now, where I am treated as a whore to this man's beck and call.  
Jerking upright, I hear the doorknob rattle behind me as someone enters. Masking my face with a look of composure, I turn towards the doorway on the other side of the room....There he is....The dirty bastard himself, a lustful and evil smirk playing across his lips. Captain Redmond strides toward me with his hands clasped behind his back. The steady beat of his hard leather boots against the old, wooden floor echo softly in the large bedroom as he finally makes his way beside me at the window. I determinedly attain eye contact with him as he continues to stare down at me from under the wide brim of his hat. I want him to feel as though I am not afraid. I am though. Terribly afraid. So afraid that I sometimes feel as if my heart will explode at his touch. Smiling broader than usual he states casually,  
"Villia, I thought that you were told to wait for me on the bed," he traces one of his long, yellow nails along my cheek. I flinch only slightly at his touch. "I can't have you disobeying me now, can I?" He then slowly slips his arms about my waist, pulling me closer so that I can smell the cheap rum on his hot and heavy breath. If I only had a cutlass at my side now, his arms would no longer reside there. Keeping one arm still around my waist, he then moves his other hand up and around the back of my neck, pulling me into a violent and possessive kiss. Over the course of my time with him, I have learned that I am to always return the kiss, or a terrible beating will result soon enough. So, reluctantly, I open my mouth as his tongue slides across my lips, eventually making it's way inside my mouth. He suddenly pulls away abruptly and stares into my flushed face. With no trace of warning, he sharply smacks me across the face, using most, if not all, of his strength. I stumble on top of the bed from the shock of being struck, grasping the side of my face that now trickles with blood. White, hot anger sears through me as I feel his hands force me onto my back. Forcefully holding both of my arms over my head with his hand, he nearly spits in my face,  
"How many times must you be told that you are mine, and you are to do as I tell you!" He slaps me again with his free hand, causing my face to fall to the right. I start to feel the sheer heavy weight of him on top of me as he brushes my long hair away from my neck, the anger in his eyes starting to fade into lust. He then slowly leans down to suck passionately on the space just below my ear. Squeezing my eyes shut, I think, 'I'm so tired. So tired of this. I'm tired of being used and abused for his pleasure. Tired of feeling tired.'  
Before he takes his actions any further however, the door bursts open, as two pirates under the command of Captain Redmond barge in.  
"Sir!" the first of the two calls. The Captain slowly removes himself from my neck to gaze at the men malevolently.  
"How many times must I tell you," he whispers quietly with rage, "that whilst I am in here, you are not to bother me!" I notice a flicker of pity in the two young men's eyes as their gazes pass quickly over me. I do not want or need their pity. I wish that they would stop staring at me thinking, 'Poor girl. She is trapped.' I bloody know that I'm trapped, and I don't need them to point it out to me with their pitiful glares!  
"S-sir," the first continues, "An unknown ship has sailed into our harbor sir, but they've raised up a flag of truce. The captain says that they wish permission to stock up on supplies, sir!" Captain Redmond stares at them both long and hard before returning his attention to me, whilst I still lie under his weight. He leans down slowly and places a slow, yet hard, kiss on my lips. I can hear the two men shift uncomfortably as they watch Captain Redmond mark me as 'his'. Just when I start to wonder if he'll ever let me breathe air again, the Captain raises his head slowly and whispers quietly in my ear,  
"I'll be back luv." He raises himself from the bed, leaving me awkwardly sprawled across it still. As I sit up uncertainly, I hear the three men converse as they exit the room,  
"So, what's this captain's name?"  
"Sparrow, sir. Jack Sparrow."  
  
OK, I know that this is a sort of change from my usual light-hearted writing technique, but I just felt really angsty today, and I guess that this is the result. This is my first 'angst' story, so please review and tell me how I can improve it. I promise that there will be more if you review! Thanx! 


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